Sweet, Sweet Dreams
by SpicedPumpkinSoup
Summary: A villain with a peculiar quirk has infiltrated UA. Stuck in worlds of their own making, will the young heroes manage to break out of it? OC out of necessity but hoping to focus far more on the heroes and what is happening to them after this initial chapter.
1. Chapter 1 : Bring me a Dream

A/N : This is my first fan fic, based loosely off a bunch of greentext myself and a bunch of other people were throwing around for fun. There is a set of scenes I'm trying to get to, but I felt I had to do this massive buildup. Feel free to leave any criticism and tell me what you think. Hope to make it revolve mostly around a couple of people, but won't hesitate to show off others in this when I get the time.

Chapter 1. Intro: Bring me a dream

Despite a rather rough start, the mission was complete as far as the League of Villains was concerned. Infiltration was a particular specialty of the man currently inching his way through the blackened air duct, sporting a bodysuit dark enough to match the lack of lighting. Compared to what he was told, reaching the interior of these dorms was almost hilariously uneventful. His quirk required a few conditions to be truly effective and the distraction used eased quite a few of those problems, but it was his own mastery of infiltration that let him finish the mission almost without a hitch. It was rare that the villain known as Mr. Sandman worked with other villains willingly, but the money offered and his own special conditions he added to the deal (which were only barely accepted) gave him a rare opportunity to push his quirk to greater and greater heights.

He hadn't the foggiest clue why the League would hire him for a plan like this, but quite frankly he could care less about their motives. "It's not any of my business." he half-bitterly thought in the near deafening silence. With little else to focus on as he wandered the intricate duct-work of UA, his own curiosity started bubbling up to the surface to keep the silence at bay.

Oh, he had plenty of questions the second he was given the details, with few being answered beyond just how he was going to get in and out of one of the most secure civilian areas in all of Japan, undetected, no less. It was an expectation to ask that sort of question and be given a good answer. Even with villains, no, _especially with villains_, you need standards. The info you're given is often considered a ranking of trust in more friendly circles, but here the less given the more expendable you are. Mr. Sandman was not the type to want to be used and thrown away. Needless to say, even with his caution, double crossings from the unappreciative weren't uncommon enough to leave him trusting. Some might call it paranoia, but it was invaluable to a quirk user living as a mercenary.

At the very least the League was playing an honest game with him. Take a bunch of brats out of the picture using his quirk. Quick and easy. His targets, however, didn't lend a hand at all to keeping his curiosity in check. Of _course_ Sandman was curious. Even if he pushed those questions down to the innermost pits of his very soul, they would just climb back up if he didn't stay occupied. It happened the entire time he was completing his mission. Why this group of kids? Why him specifically? Sure, apparently they've crossed this group before and have come out better on the other side, but isn't this a bit too over the top? Just send in some villains who actually are combat capable. The orders were weird even considering his usual clientele. To use his quirk on a class of high school brats, greener than the jade and emeralds in his jewelry and not the faculty consisting of some of the most powerful, intelligent, and tenacious pro heroes this generation has even seen? He had to ask that question multiple times. He couldn't tell if he was finally losing it, if the client had lost it, or if he was just misunderstanding the instructions. His contact had to explain that, no, it's definitely the kids that were the target to focus on.

Sandman recalled quite clearly the power some of those kids had in the video footage he was sent, but an entire mission dedicated to removing them? And had it not been for his personal stipulations, try and induce death in them through their dreams? Money usually deals with inconvenient questions at the time with its power to keep even the most talkative quiet, but all this? Maybe on the far more stoic. He has played this game a few too many times to not let curiosity get to him, especially when a gut feeling was what kept you from waking up another day or meeting your maker. So to aid the cash, he had to focus on the game he plays instead.

Money and the challenge, that was his main focus. After all, whether it be the rich looking for new thrills that the waking world no longer offered, the mentally scarred looking for closure on their own terms, a criminal group looking to get rid of competition, the inventor or craftsman looking for inspiration, or those waiting on death's door, desperate to offer many interesting info and valuables for the possibility of an immortality in their own final dream, what difference was it to him? Money, blackmail info, and even jewelry, all valuable assets and perfect rewards for his services. He'd call anyone using their own skills for free a fool or a slave. He paused mid-movement, an arm still outstretched in the blackness. A scowl appeared on his face. Just for an instant he felt his facial muscles clench taut, remembering when he was such an individual. Usually he could handle an errant emotion, but this was a touchy subject. A wretched slave. Even in the pitch blackness of these cramped tunnels, with not a soul in sight, he couldn't help but bare his teeth. Never again. He was his own master, and what he inflicted on his captors is still whispered with fright by those in the know. Sandman's' teeth clenched to the point he heard them audibly grind against one another and slammed a fist against an unlucky piece of duct work.

The sound may as well have been a bomb going off in the oppressive silence. Realizing his error, he forced every dark emotion back into himself and locked it away. Shaking off any remnants of his childish outburst, he resumed his journey through the claustrophobic world of night. A month of planning almost thrown to the wind! An amateur's error! If he wants to reminisce on those awful memories for whatever reason, he can do it on his own time. He needs to focus on this mission to make it out safely, but not before claiming his reward. After all, just because he was hired for a mission doesn't mean he won't linger for a bit to admire his handiwork.

Mr. Sandman was a man who suffered in his own way for his art. Uncomfortable spaces, tense standoffs, awkward poses and positions, these types of jobs were torture, all so others could use his creativity. To him, a man who spends his time honing his work to a master craft deserved to see the fruits of his labor. His main objective accomplished, he was now free to allow his desires to be sated, and much to his relief there wasn't a soul who could tell him otherwise.

Mr. Sandman is an artist whose medium is not the written word, neither is it the brush, nor the chisel, he was a man of dreams. He could appreciate the art and effort others could put in, but none of them held a candle to his efforts. What other artist could claim to bring entire worlds to the masses? What other artist would give you the chance to experience that world with all five of your senses? What other artist could let you enjoy that world built not only by surface of the self but by the very soul it was designed to cater to forever?

Perhaps it was narcissism getting the better of him as he resumed his monotonous pace, but his beliefs were set in stone. For him, the chance to create entire worlds centered on the individuals or groups he was hired to work his magic on was its own reward, though he knew his work needed payment as well. And though he'd never admit it out loud, the chance to build, sculpt, and create worlds using these kids as his canvas was almost completely foreign, but exciting to him.

"Sure", he paused, looking back, "I've had to put kids under, but they were dying or sick in some way or another". The parents were desperate for an ease to their suffering, so most of that was what he could do in his mind to make it better for a child, often asking what they'd like to see before giving them a peaceful slumber. He never killed a child in his art. It was one of his main stipulations for this job, he didn't care that they were almost adults. It was all kids to him, and he almost regretted voicing that last bit out loud to his client. He felt a cold glare under all that hair. And frankly, an actual human hand didn't make it easier to be under. It was a killer's look, no doubt, but he remained adamant. If the kids' dreams lead them to death, so be it, but he wasn't going to sculpt a world built off their thoughts and desires just for them to be destroyed like a sand castle at high tide. If he wants a killer, hire one instead.

Sandman did guarantee that as long as the dream was effectively immersive to them, or unless they experienced rough physical pain (unlikely to happen as far as the faculty was concerned) they would stay under for the rest of their lives. His client was silent for a moment when this was brought up and agreed that such a thing was good enough to be a possible "victory condition" for his purposes. Apparently although death was preferred, having them out while the League finished its own end of the work was perfectly fine. What that work was, however was need to know. Predictable, but understandable.

As he finished getting his thoughts finally under control, he noticed that this spot was where his first reward was. Peeking through a grating, he spotted one of the only targets who actually gave him trouble. The dark haired girl seemed relatively average, except for the slightly outrageous hair style, and even in these low light conditions, the skin toned audio jacks that formed the bottom portion of her ear, one hanging loosely against her pillow and one limply attached to a wall gave her a striking appearance. She had almost raised an alarm about his presence had not quickly used his quirk. He wasn't quite sure what she was listening for originally, but she was already eavesdropping on someone before he entered the ducts and the distraction began in earnest elsewhere.

Watching her for a moment longer, he loomed closer to the edge of the grate. Even from here, he could quietly enter what he dubbed the dream range. Comparable to entering a kitchen mid meal preparation, Sandman could already feel new sensory inputs reaching him, and he began to bask in the emotional ranges of her new reality.

Even as a master, he felt he had outdone himself, as usual, on shaping her world. The soul of a musician, a small whim of wanting to pursue music, born of two creative and supportive parents, and through Sandman's quirk, a rock star was born. The music was far off and muffled sounding, like being underwater, but his senses picked up the other things at the distance he was at, watching with an intensity bordering on madness beyond the grate.

He felt the adulation of the crowd as another song finished, the acrid smell of smoke wafting from the rows of people, the heat of the stage lights and her passion, and he could taste the sweat as she poured her everything into her music. He was impressed, as one artist to another, and she had him to thank for the opportunity to live out her own flight of fancy as if it were reality itself. Although, he managed to think to himself under the pleasurable sensory overload, he also gained quite a bit out of this himself.

Suddenly he felt something that halted his current enjoyment by overshadowing all other things. At first it was like the scent of something soft and sweet. It was subtle and overpowering in the same stroke, drowning out even the smoke from her fans. It quickly grew into a sort of flavor that touched his taste buds, which he would have pinned down to something not unlike fresh cheesecake. It had been too long since he felt anything like it. He knew it was a professional courtesy to deny himself for the sake of the mission before but this was now. He strained his quirk to its limits at this range to experience her dream first hand.

If you were to ask him about the nature of what he was experiencing now and why his desperation to be more in tune with the dream, he would explain that while the things his subject would perceive would touch the senses, feelings were far more powerful. He was a little unsure if he was causing their psyche to experience these senses and the dreams were their way of subconsciously rationalizing things they couldn't possibly be doing or if it was the other way around, but he was sticking to his ideal of being the shaper of their worlds. Regardless, the senses he could faintly perceive would often pale in comparison to the emotions his canvases would experience in their slumber. Pleasure is pleasure, he would note with the smugness of an expert in a room of the ignorant, but even soft surface emotions like sadness or contentment would color his emotions in himself if he would allow them to. Each had their own sort of flavor or feeling to them (He preferred the term flavor, as there was far more enjoyment in the thought of tasting the desires, dreams and fears of others than feeling them) but certain deeper emotions were "flavored" to induce their own incredible effects on him.

It was an addiction to find new and interesting combinations of flavors and reaching a new point of ecstasy and each new canvas was different. An old man filled with regret of an unfulfilled life could induce a melancholy capable of leaving Sandman barely able to eat or leave the soft comfort of his bed, bitterness removing the color out of his vision for a week after the old man finally passed. The burning hatred bubbling up out of an assault victim seeking closure as they began enacting their own dream-vengeance even forced the somewhat neutral Sandman to hire a group of thugs to soften his mark, before finally ending it by inducing a nightmare with no possible chance of escape. That particular one scarred him. The lengths he perused just to satisfy the dark, heartfelt desire of a complete stranger shocked him, but the residual emotion he felt when he showed the same victim their torturer in a nightmare were forced to live out filled him with a rapture unlike anything beforehand. Such acts only continued his downward spiral into the world of tasting another's very soul. He had to be extremely careful of the teenage stalker whose parents begged him to try and help "change her for the better". Even with the tiniest sip of her twisted brand of love, it moved through him like an infection, and left him thirsting for more. When he was finally done, he had left their large home almost skipping. Twisted as it was and even with the tiniest exposure, that love touched him in a way even terror, despair, or even tranquility couldn't hold a candle to.

Presently, he felt hints of his most cherished of sensory tastes. It was an emotion free and open in the private sanctity of this sleeping child's mind. Only he was privileged enough to experience that sense right now with her. He was honored. That soft sweetness formed out of a heart yearning for something more than itself. It was unharmed by the cold realities of the world, and supported with the parents as an example. This was mercifully not twisted into a more hideous form like the stalker from so long ago. It was still a dream full of hope. It was young love unconfessed. He couldn't hide his excitement, this was his new art truly taking on greater heights. This was a flavor unknown to him, and he was ready for the feast.

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As she finished her final song of the night to an electrified audience, Jirou jogged backstage, smiling and waving to the crowd. Finally making it to the back she allowed a deep sight to escape her. Being on the road like this wasn't easy, and every new venue was more tiring than the last.

"Honestly", she said to no one in particular, "I'm just glad that I'm finally getting used to this". Jirou went to reach for the cold, unopened water bottle when a blur of white flew towards her. Too tired and shocked to doge, the blur made contact with her head. That's weird, she thought, she didn't think it wouldn't even hurt her and wrapped around her face like this it was actually pretty soft.

"Great show, as usual!" A voice full of admiration called to her, just audible over the din of the crowd still calling her name. Even dead tired and mostly blind from the towel softly tossed her way, she didn't need to guess who it was. With a tiny smile and a desire to see the face only made for her, she moved the towel away from her own. A handsome smile, with hints of mischief, framed by golden blonde hair and eyes focused solely on her. "I hope you have time for your number one fan."

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A/N Thanks for making it this far. Feel free to leave your thoughts, good and bad on the reviews if you get the time. I'll try to respond to them when I'm able to. Also didn't think dialog would be so tough to write, even this little bit had me trying to figure out their mannerisms. Also trying to build a guy from more or less scratch just to get this show rolling was rough, and I wasn't sure if an intro was the best way to go about it, but I spent too much time to comfortably go back and say let's find a new way.

Regardless, leave a comment if you have the time!


	2. Chapter 2 : Sparks and Sounds

**A/N: Well it only took a few weeks, a whole break from college, and the realization that I keep typing too much and had to separate my thoughts into 2 separate chapters, but this is done. Warning: It's dialogue heavy. As usual, whether guest or user, throw me your thoughts, I want to hear everyone's thoughts on how to improve things and what they'd like to see. There will be a lot less dialogue in the next chapter, but I'm hoping to move on from Jiro's dream to newer pastures after the next chapter. Thanks for taking the time to read this.**

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Seeing Denki sporting that grin of his after such a cheesy line, Jiro knew she only had one choice. Still full of the combined excitement from a successful show and the cheering fans, Jiro sprints the short distance towards him and leaps. Denki, knowing this ritual by now, already had his hands out. As they collide into a deep hug, Denki spins around with her a few times before setting her down gently.

"Well, if it's my number one fan, I guess I don't have much choice but to spend some time with him!", Jiro half-shouts over the din, smiling all the while. "But let's get somewhere a bit quieter first!" With that, both of them walk quietly to a set of changing rooms in the back. Less than a minute later, Denki quietly closes the door behind them as Jiro lounges into one of the few different chairs lazily placed into the room. Watching her quietly relaxing with her eyes closed, Denki finds a chair of his own and scoots it closer to her. During the small silence Jiro takes another sip of the still-cold water and with eyes still closed, she points a question at him. "So, what's the plan?"

"Plans for what in particular? Do you mean tonight?" Denki now starts to look excited. Adjusting his hair slightly and bowing slightly in his seat, he extends a hand and adds, "Well I _am_ ready to escort your wonderful self to that restaurant we reserved a few days ago."

Her expression changes to a slight smile, though she is still resting her eyes, "That's great, Pikachu, and I am still good to go, even if I look a bit rough right now." Denki opens his mouth to say something about her self-depreciation but she continues, "But I meant for the next month or so. The tour is only midway through, and I was thinking about making a supply run and picking up some souvenirs as well. I think my parents would be happy to have something neat from my travels and finally meet you too, once we swing by their place."

Denki has shock written all over his face, before his grin returns. "I can't wait! I mean, yeah, looking at stuff for your parents is going to be cool, but meeting them too?" Suddenly, the excitement that came so fast was sapped from him just as quick, "Oh no, Jiro, what if I make a fool out of myself!? What if your dad hates me? What if I make a rude comment without realizing it?" All this in mind, Denki leaps from the chair and starts to pace the room frantically.

"Oh? Is Mr. Hero scared to meet a girl's parents?" Watching Denki as he struggles to come to terms with this idea, Jiro lets a smirk cross her face and starts to laugh. Although he gives her a slightly dirty look, she decides to try and relax him. "Sorry, sorry. Don't worry, they're dying to meet you. It'll be just like how you introduced me to yours. Nice and easy"

"Yeah yeah, it's not a big deal for you. You got to meet my family early on, and they were just happy to see that I found someone they thought was nice. But now that we've been together for a bit longer, I'll probably hear all sorts of awkward questions from your parents!" Finishing his thoughts, he let out a large sigh. With all this to mull over, Denki moves back to his seat and slouches into it. Thanks to all the stress he's building for himself, it's his turn to rest his eyes in thought.

Jiro watches him thoughtfully, before walking behind a changing screen and grabbing a fresh set of clothes. As she changes over, she begins to understand just how worried he is about all of this. _Listening to how he's saying it, I guess he does have a point. I mean, I was pretty anxious in his position too, _she realizes.

Putting her arms and head through a new shirt, she calls to him, "You know, Denki, they're probably going to be too busy gushing over how I found an up and coming pro to even think about how you are as a person." Finished changing, she walks back around the screen and lays her arms across his still slouched body. "Even if you think you made a small mistake, they'll just write it off as you being quirky. I've already told them how great a person you were, so relax a bit." Finishing her pep talk, she lays her head against the side of his and lets them both soak up the atmosphere.

Holding Jiro's warmth against him for a while, Denki finally looks up at her, with a smile returning. "You know what? You're right, I shouldn't worry too much. I should focus on the present, like how I'm taking you to dinner in a bit".

"That's the spirit!" she smiled back. "Besides… I did have something I wanted to talk to you about." Before Denki can say anything, she quickly moves back into the seat next to him and looks right into his eyes.

She holds him in the center of the focus for a moment, looking for the words she needs, before taking a deep breath, "You know, I love that you're right here with me on tour, but aren't you worried about your career? Don't get me wrong, I'm thrilled to have you around, Stun-Gun, but what about your dreams? You are trying to go pro, right? Won't this side trip kind of get in the way?"

Denki sees the concern on her face, and although the smile is lost for just a moment as he thinks for a second, it returns just as soon as it left. "Jiro, you don't have to worry. If anything, I kind of see it like how All Might's career was done."

Raising her eyebrows at the thought of Denki planning something, Jiro decides to get all the details out of him the only way she knew how. "Really now? I didn't think you'd be the type to be thinking so far ahead, Pikachu." She pokes his side playfully, Denki's smile just as infectious as ever.

"Well I figured, if All Might traveled to America to get his name out there, maybe if I go on the road around Japan, my name will get pretty popular and more pro agencies will want to pick me up." Recounting the particulars of his ideal, he continued, "Plus since you're already touring around, I figure it'd be just like killing two birds with one stone, y'know?" Running a hand through his golden hair, a hint of red graced his face before finishing, "Actually, you're sort of my inspiration for the plan. I guess you could say you're my muse, even."

Jiro's couldn't believe it. Her mouth was lead, her face burning like all the spotlights of the stage were focused on her. How could he say something so embarrassing? Jiro was glad her parents were mercifully nowhere in earshot to hear him say something so ridiculous. "W-what are you even saying!? I'm not all that great, I don't even know how you could use me for inspiration. I just make music I'd like to listen to."

Denki loses his smile hearing that, and gets a bit more serious and placing a hand on her shoulder, "Hey, don't say crap like that. If it wasn't for you, I'd still be trying to find a place to show everyone I could be a hero. You were brave enough to follow your dreams and go out on the road. Not a lot of people can handle long distance, especially being so far away from everyone you knew for so long. You have plenty to be proud of! And that's before we say anything about the people your music is reaching!"

Jiro is speechless. Despite a new found confidence on the exterior while performing for the crowd and the occasional interview, she still has worries and doubts bubble up to the surface between those times. She knows the pressure of creating more music. Her parents explained that much to her. Momentum is what they called it. They warned her about not burning out too quickly as well. Having Denki right here along the way as a beacon of support, Jiro knows deep down that she'll be okay. Looking at him being like this, she really is thankful for him. He's been doing so much to help out even though they have only been together for a few months.

"Denki, you really are amazing, you know that?" Before he can even answer, she lands a soft peck right on his lips. He can't help but show off another grin before grabbing her into a deep embrace.

"While I'd love to continue this, my muse, we also have that dinner to get to." he says with a wink. Getting serious for a moment and grasping her hands in his, he adds, "Jiro, I want to be there for you. You're such a wonderful person, you have a gift for music, you're tough, but you're also so sweet it gives me a toothache. I want to find a great agency, work hard, and provide for us when we finally decide to settle down, y'know?"

He held his trademark smile here, but silence fell between the two of them. Jiro was looking down, and the stillness was overbearing. "Uh, Jiro, did I say something wrong?" Still no response. He leaned in closer to try and gauge her reaction was, when she lifted her head and locked eyes with him.

"DID YOU SAY SOMETHING WRONG?!" came the roar from her throat. "We have only been together here for a little more than four months! What do you mean, "settle down!?" Look, Hemmingwhey, I appreciate you, but settling down? I think it's a little too soon to even say something like that! Who knows what could change between then and now? I'm still trying to figure out if I can actually keep doing this, and who knows if something might happen to you during that time? You might not want me around anymore, I might move too far from where you want an agency to take you. Hell, you could easily change yourself, you might end up more like that one loser you know, Grape J-" Denki stayed silent for most of Jiro's outrage, clearly not enjoying himself, but the mention of an old classmate and friend of his caused him to spring back to life.

"Don't you dare try to trash talk Mineta, you got that? He might have some issues, but he's been there for me. You may hate the idea of commitment so soon, and that's fine, but don't you try to drag my friends through the mud just to justify yourself. I'm not even going to talk about that awful nickname you threw at me just now, either."

"Oh? I hit a sore spot, Sparkplug? Maybe if your "friend" grew a few inches, it'd keep his mind out of the gutter! And if you keep listening to him, you might go the same way."

At this point, Denki's expression was neutral, but his eyes took on a coldness that was rarely seen. Getting up from his chair, he began to walk. Jiro, being slow on the beat, realized she went too far. Attempting to call out to him lead to no success, he was already at the door, placing his hand on the knob. He didn't look to her or acknowledged her protests.

"I just remembered, I have some patrolling I have to do, so I can't make it to the dinner tonight." Opening the door, the soft din of music from the next set filled the room. "And, Jiro? He might be vertically challenged, but I think if you can't see the effort he puts in every night out there, the one who might have some growing up to do is you. Good night." with that, his footsteps echoed amongst the music through the corridor in a steady beat until they faded.

She couldn't believe it. She almost never saw him angry. Her body couldn't react to it. She was fine in the heat of the moment, but once he took control it was like she was a statue and her mind was in a daze. _Maybe if you hadn't mentioned his friend, he would have stayed_. _I don't think I was wrong to disagree about settling down so early, but maybe I shouldn't have gotten angry like that. Damn it, why am I trying to push him away like this!? _The chair's arms might have been padded, but hitting anything hard can still hurt. Shaking the soreness out of her hand, she sat back in thought for a moment as her mind gave highlights of tender moments together with no sign of stopping. The regretful feelings of her mismanagement of the situation finally culminated in realization like a sledgehammer. _I need to apologize, but damn it, I need to find him first_.

She sat for a moment longer in the chair, contemplating what she could even say to start her apology, but after fumbling for words and how to start it up, she leapt from the chair. _Screw it, I'll figure it out on the way. Please don't be too far_. Knowing she would regret it for the rest of her life if she didn't find him before the night was up, she moved decisively. Rushing to her clothing bag and digging through outfits, she finally found a coat to keep her warm during her run. It wouldn't have taken long, she thought, had her eyes not did their best impression of an Olympic swimming pool mid-use. Throwing it around her and taking one last drink of water, she rushed out the door, refusing to fight the tears trailing behind her in the pitch blackness of the night air. _I hope I can make it in time, Denki._

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**A/N: And that's that! Great work if you made it this far, and sorry for writing so much. I didn't know what their exact dynamic would be, but I'd like to think their interactions would be this cute combination of jabs and tender moments. Although I also tried throwing the stress of trying to find themselves and have time for each other in there, and I can only hope I managed to get that across. Either way, tell me your thoughts, and thanks again for the time you take out of your day to review.**


	3. Chapter 3 : A Simple Question

**A/N: Good news everyone, I managed to get this set up a lot sooner than I figured it would take and I already have the next chapter being written as we speak, but what do you guys think? Do I try to push too much into one chapter? Should I try to separate it more? Feel free to leave my your thoughts, good and bad. I honestly am thinking of breaking up what I am writing right now again into two separate pieces, but I'll have to see how it looks once I transfer it to my word processor. And if I messed things up and you can't actually review it, toss me a PM and tell me how to not be stupid. Thanks again for reading it and I hope you enjoy the story. **

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Chapter 3: Just a Simple Question

It felt like an instant had passed but unless he checked his watch, Sandman wouldn't know how long he was lost in the young heroine's emotions. He may have lost the connection to her dreams at that moment, but he saw her trouble-filled slumber like looking into a mirror. The mental shock was rough on him. The second the hard emotional feedback of her despair started he was thrust out of his Dionysian trance. He realized the issue. She was about to wake up. Fearing the consequences of failure, he realized he has to work quickly. If she were to wakes up and managed to wake the other kids, or worse, alert the pros to what's happening, he knew he wouldn't have a hope. It was going to be risky, but he's he only had one course of action. Alter her dream before she broke his quirk's grasp.

"Sorry kid, but it'll work out the best for the both of us if you stay asleep." he whispered out, a bit too somber in tone. Another lapse in concentration, almost forgetting she isn't a client but a target._ What is that, pity? She's a mark. Kid or not, you're giving her what her heart is begging for, just think of this as making sure she's happy._ He can hear his inner-monologue trying to console him, finding a way to rationalize his actions. Was it actually pity? Regret even? Maybe it's the romantic feelings he was taking in earlier but he couldn't tell. Either way he had to come up with a solution.

Cursing himself for those distractions Sandman focuses as hard as he can. Regret can come later, for now he knows that he has to alter her dreams quickly. Reaching deeply into her mind he begins to alter everything beyond what she is currently perceiving. He has to be subtle, anything too out of place and it might cause her heavy emotional trauma. Great for revenge on those who cross him, but awful for some kids unlucky enough to be at the wrong place at the wrong time.

He starts off with where she's running. Luckily, she placed herself in a large city, with plenty of buildings, streets and alleyways and a goal in mind. A goal means tunnel vision, and that's easier for Sandman to build off of. _Start small_, Sandman tells himself, _keep her running for now, but in place of the alleys she is ignoring, create a larger one, add some sounds of arguing, don't forget a scream for good measure before that. This is all a beautiful coincidence, and sometimes life does work out like this, kid. Keep all that in mind, and you'll get the best sleep of your life. _With some effort his old masterpiece begins rebuilding itself anew

With a flourish, his plan sets itself into motion. She hears the scream, followed by the sounds of an argument. He watches closely as Jiro stops in place and uses her earphones on the sidewalk in her short pause, clearly a remnant of honing a skill so close it becomes second nature._ So that's how her quirk works, guess she's in UA for a reason_, Sandman sagely notes. As she hears the yelling, she locks sight on the larger alleyway, just big enough to be confused for a side street, before she breaks into a sprint. Rounding corner and trying to catch her breath, everything begins to unfold beautifully. Smiling at his own quick thinking, Sandman tempers it also with the understanding that if he took the target's age into consideration, he wouldn't have made this mistake. Before he gets ready to resume his lonesome journey in the ducts, he pauses long enough to make sure this issue is reconciled.

* * *

As soon as Jiro hears the shriek, she stops right where she is, crouches, and plants her earphones into the sidewalk. It's not too far away, only a mere 50 or so feet from her. As she tries to figure out the origin of the voices, she hears a calm, almost suave voice in the mixture. A voice so filled with confidence, she could never mistake it for any other. She could tease him all she wants, but at the end of the day, a hero is a hero.

Pinpointing the location, she makes a rush for the large alleyway on the opposite end of the street, dodging around a car making its way through. Reaching the opening, she tries to peer into the almost darkness. Although the lighting is dim and she's a bit too out of breath, Jiro tries to make as much sense of the situation as time allows. Four men, one is her boyfriend with one young girl with pointed furry ears behind him amongst the refuse littering the place. Although the situation is tense, no one notices a single, out of breath newcomer, especially one waiting outside the alley.

"Look mate, we ain't here to cause much trouble, a bit of cash, and we'd be on our way." a short and skinny man, with features akin to a swordfish with a pointed nose to match, claims to Denki.

A second individual, more bull than man, speaks up, "Actually, I think my TV could do with an upgrade. I'm sure the two charitable folks here are more than willing." With little flair, he lifts up a crowbar and smashes it into the wall of one building, creating a large hole in the brickwork.

Although silent, the final man sporting a hoodie covering his face merely reaches for a discarded piece of fence and before everyone's eyes has it formed into a sharp looking short sword.

"Well, I guess this is gonna be a problem guys," Denki simply replied while running a hand through his hair, "You see, I don't care much for guys who try and harm girls, it's just too lame."

As soon as lame slipped from his lips, Denki sprang to action, two disc like objects shot out from a gauntlet on his right arm. Although surprised, the swordfish-man with an agility matching his smaller frame, dodged the disc now implanted in the wall behind him. Crouching down onto his webbed hands, he points his nose forward, ready to leap. Grinning, the second disk is caught by the bull-man with no effort. "Cute toys, kid. But if these are the best you have to offer, it's going to be a long night for you and the girl."

Denki's eyes narrow and with as much warning as he gave with his opening attack, activates his quirk. As the electricity builds up in the alleyway, the hair on Jiro's neck is standing on end. The discs glow with an eerie light, but before the bull-man can drop his or the swordfish instinctively realize his bad positioning, electricity shoots out of Denki's two pointed fingers. Jiro has only ever seen Denki use his quirk on TV, but the feeling she had from him using it felt incredibly familiar. Unfortunately for the two would be muggers, familiarity wasn't what they took away from Denki's quirk.

"Sorry guys, but I'm a lead with my weak foot kind of guy," Denki calmly replies. Not that the two muggers could speak or hear him. The third man, shocked in the figurative sense, decides now would be the best time to open with an attack of his own. Pointing his short sword forward, the metal quickly changes into a long, single point, and launches itself forward. The metal thins out as it reaches towards Denki, but is aimed for his head. Already ready for anything to do with metal shaping, Denki easily avoids the desperate attack.

"T-There's more where that came from! You're dead!" screams the man. Before he can try to reshape the metal, Denki calmly places his hand on the elongated spike and glows for only a moment. The man is too frightened to even loosen the grip on his only means of attack and experiences Denki's power in a way the discs could only hope to match. With eyes rolling back, the man loses consciousness, but still holds onto what is left of the makeshift weapon.

"Piece of cake!" Denki, says as he turns to the young girl behind him.

Much to Jiro's chagrin, the girl jumps up and wraps her arms around Denki. "Oh my God, thank you Mr. Hero. I thought I was in real trouble there. Is there anything I can do for you?" her flirtatious tone lacking any subtlety. While Denki is laughing to help ease the situation between them, Jiro spots something in the girl's hand. The small lamp above their heads doesn't show much, but the glint of metal, similar to the mugger's weapon isn't hard to miss. Jiro sprints into the alleyway and has her earphone jacks at the ready. The girl seems to be too lost in her own frightful ecstasy to bother with the sounds of rapid footfalls, her yellow eyes' practically glowing. Denki on the other hand, still wrapped in the girls arms, sees Jiro running straight towards him and is equal amounts stunned and scared.

"Jiro! This isn't what it looks like, see I totally sav-"

"Shut it, Pikachu!" came the annoyed shout as Jiro jammed one of her earphones into the girl with the knife at the ready and sent a destructive pulse through her. The girl dropped her makeshift weapon in a moment of panic and crumpled to the ground with a scream. Hearing the tell-tale sound of metal being dropped, Denki looked behind him to see the small yet razor sharp metal and the gravity of his situation dawned on him.

"Holy hell, Jiro that was grea-"

"You idiot!" she yelled with a leap. Wrapping her arms as tightly as she could around Denki, tears traveled freely down her face. "How are you going to be a hero if you fall for dumb crap like that!?" Jiro started to wail. "You can't leave me like that! If I lost you just now, do you know how awful everything would be? I'm sorry Denk! I'm sorry for complaining about settling down! I'm sorry for making fun of your friends! I'm sorry for everything!"

Holding her in his arms, Denki couldn't help but smile, unable and uncaring about the tears rolling down his own face. "Jiro, you're alright. If anyone needs to apologize, it's me. I pushed things way too far by asking you to commit to things you weren't sure about or ready to answer yet. And I accept the apology about what you said about anything else. I shouldn't have stomped off like that, even if I was angry." Their eyes locking onto one another's, the young couple's lips matched them soon enough. After a few quiet moments of looking at each other, they relaxed their arms and looked around.

"Geeze, you really know how to make a girl worry, Charge-Bolt. So, what's the plan with these weirdo's?"

Wiping away the last of his own tears, Kaminari checks to see if any of them are conscious yet. "Well, I managed to contact the police shortly before I got into this mess, but I think I'll need to update them about the fourth suspect. What about you, doing anything tonight?"

Still a bit flush from earlier, Jiro leans against him, "Well I was thinking maybe grabbing something to eat, what do you think, Pikachu? Managed to work up an appetite?"

"Now that you mention it, food doesn't sound too bad actually. Thinking about it, it's still a little while before our planned dinner? What do you think? Somewhere fancy with a pro hero to wrap your arms around?"

Rolling her eyes, Jiro sends back her own witty retort. "If that's how we are going to play it, you probably won' mind treating me, looking at how easily you let that girl hold onto you."

Ensuring the muggers are secure, they begin walking calmly out of the alleyway together.

"Oi, that's just part of me being charming! You should know that by now!" With his trademark smile, the blonde holds out his arm.

Jiro takes the pro-to-be's arm and starts walking with him. "Pikachu, you know I really appreciate everything you have done for me, right? Ever since we first met, I really did want us to grow together. If you don't care though I'd like it to be slower. I think we're way too young to be worried about all that other stuff way down the line. I hope that doesn't make too much difference to you."

"Not at all. Honestly it makes things easier for me. If you do want to settle down, way down the line, I'll be ready to take you up on that offer in a heartbeat."

* * *

Satisfied with a newer and improved masterpiece, Sandman takes one last glance towards the young heroine. It's still incredibly dark, although the night now is being splotched with splashes of bright light and sound far in the distance. _I guess the League is causing its own mayhem. Hopefully the operation hasn't started in earnest just yet. _Knowing his own work was far from over, Sandman realizes the kids being so young may have caused other unforeseen issues. _These are kids, of course the idea of settling down so quickly is going to go badly. Hopefully I don't harm these kids with any ridiculous alterations to match their hopes and dreams._ Cursing again, he realized this flip of personality was probably caused by his wanton dining of emotion. Grinding his teeth, Sandman only hopes these stolen feelings don't throw him completely off. With his thoughts reorganized and his vision feeling a bit more cheerful despite the dreary surroundings of his cramped choice of corridor, he resumes the lonely journey amongst the ducts. He knew it was worth the lack of sound as he moved through, but he most certainly regretted not bringing night vision goggles of any kind. Aided by such things, however, he still wouldn't have noticed the slight wrinkle in Jiro's eyebrows shortly after he left.

* * *

The dinner was delicious and there was someone who was glad to be in her company. The calm night air and the autumn leaves added a beautiful backdrop to the restaurant that was had the quality and price to match. With Denki treating her though, it wasn't a worry for them at the moment. It was all about being together, and Jiro was high on happiness. Putting the small spat behind them, they were able to enjoy the night in earnest. As they were waiting on dessert to come in under the dim candlelight, she felt something pull at her mind.

It was nothing more than a question. Just a simple question, but if she were to focus on the thought, it would have shook her thoughts and this dream world to their very core. Like an overly obedient child however, the question was far and away from where she could let it voice the concern. Somewhere, deep in her conscious, her true, inner-self was almost screaming it to her, but it was drowned in bliss out as she would listen and laugh at how Denki got into the alleyway situation. And like any other missed whim, it simply faded forever into the autumn night, but not before it faintly whispered out:

"Where _did_ I meet Denki at, anyway?"

* * *

**And that makes three whole chapters! Again, if you have any suggestions or criticism, throw 'em at me. I'll take what I can get at this point. Sandman is going to pay a visit to three 1A students in the corridor of the girls dorms, and we'll see how that pans out. I'll probably also write chapters dedicated to the students he was unable to properly check up on. But hoping I managed to write some good stuff here. Thanks again, and have a wonderful day!**


	4. Chapter 4 Grape Lightning

**A/N: So this chapter is only about 1815 words or so if the Doc editor is being truthful, as usual thanks for taking the time to read it. I'll have more on the chapter at the end, and will finally address the reviews like I've so desperately needed to do. Also, do you think I should rewrite/shorten/separate the first two chapters into smaller sections? Feel free to give your thoughts. **

* * *

"Okay bro, so we have talked about the girls plenty of times already, right?" spoke a young, blonde boy as he walked down the corridor.

"Naturally. What else would there be to talk about?" the incredibly short boy answered back. It was another quiet night in the Class 1-A dormitories, and at the request of Kaminari, and although not the outgoing type, Mineta agreed on a walk to clear the mind. It may have not been his go to choice, but Denki was looking troubled. Mineta was unsure of what his friend was going to bring up at first, but he broke the 10 minutes of silence this way. _So it's girls, huh? Let's see if things go the way I'm thinking they will._

Stepping out into the chilly night, the two continued their conversation away from prying ears. "Well, could we try something a bit different here?" There's hesitation in Denki's usually calm manner of speaking, "So... who do you think the worst girl of the class is? I mean they are all great, but someone has to be bottom tier for one reason or another, right?" Eyes dart back and forth for the briefest of moments before he finds his excuse, "Like Ochaco!"

Mineta eyes gleamed with a certain mischievousness, _So, that's the route you're going, Denki? You can't fool me that easily._ "Uraraka huh?" Mineta asked with feigned curiosity, "Any reason why? She's warm, bubbly, great with her hands, and those curves of hers are out of this world."

"Oh sure, she's great all around, no argument there, but she may as well have Midoriya stamped on her forehead, with the way they get around each other. It's wholesome as hell but I have trouble thinking of her as anything more than a friend because of that. So spill it, what's your opinion?"

Mineta yawns before answering, "Well I have some opinions on your choice myself. I'm an equal opportunity kind of guy after all," he noted to a pair of eyes already mid-roll. Rounding a corner of the outer grounds, the purple pro-in-training goes on the offensive. "I guess my question though would be, 'what would you do if I said Jiro?" sporting an expression of smugness only he could produce.

Denki tried to dodge the question by focusing on anything else he could see outside. Desperate, he even tried to use Mineta's obvious attraction to Momo, but Mineta flipped it back quickly.

"C'mon, you're a great guy. You gave her the push she needed for the talent show. You have a heart of gold, you're funny, and while you're not really book smart, you make up for it in a lot of ways." Denki is surprised Mineta is speaking so highly of him, and Mineta takes his silence as permission to continue. "Hell, if I were in your shoes I'd have already had a whole school harem."

Walking back indoors, both laugh it off a bit, turning into a contagious yawn, no doubt due to the time of night. Mineta takes the lead, rounding the corner opposite of the boys dorm. His good friend was too busy enjoying the praise he was getting to notice the change in the path. As he reached a suitable spot, along the corridor, Mineta stopped and turned towards his buddy. "Denki, you might think I'm crazy for this but I have an idea that'll benefit both of us"

"I don't think we can pull the cheerleader gag again. Amazing stuff, man but I think it's a one and done"

"Be serious here! Hear me out. Dates can be rough right?" (Mineta looks away angrily, _or so I've read_) before looking back at his friend, "especially first ones. So what if we make it a double date? It'll be less awkwardness and more like just hanging out!"

Despite having an electricity quirk, this sort of shock is even too much for Denki. "I don't know man, I'm already too chicken to ask Jiro by myself, and who am I going to get on board for the second pair? Midorya and Ochaco would have a double heart attack. Kirishima is too busy babysitting Bakugo to even let Mina talk to him. There might be some others, but I feel like it won't make a difference," he finished with yet another yawn.

"I thought we were buddies!" Mineta's voice started to increase in pitch but he composed himself quickly. He had to be careful, even though almost everyone looked tired in the common area, this wasn't the place for them to be caught. He didn't see everyone there, so stragglers were bound to be walking around or even in their rooms. "Listen to this: what if we convince Momo to help us out?!"

Kaminari was almost hopeful, but quickly deflated. "Mineta, don't get me wrong, but isn't Todoroki a bit too, y'know, cold about girls? The guy's good at what he does, but... "

"I mean what if it's me and her and you and Jiro, you monster!" his friend's increasingly shrill voice replied, fighting back tears.

Denki knew he hit a sore spot, and tried to defuse the situation, "Oi, I hear you, man. I like having big dreams too, but aren't you shooting for the moon here?"

"C'mon, think about it! We can make it just a nice friendly dinner, maybe go to the arcade or a movie after that. If we tell Momo what we are trying to do, she'll definitely be all for it. She's rich! The idea of watching a romance between plebs would be like a moth to a flame!"

"Was plebs really necessary?" Mineta dismisses Denki's hurt question with a wave, "But really, I'm skeptical man."

"Look, let me handle things. It's a win win anyway. I get to bask in Momo's heavenly beauty and you get your vanilla light novel event with the woman of your dreams!" Mineta finishes with a feigned swoon, hand over his head.

Another yawn from the blonde caused the grape bearing boy to chastise him for being rude to his plan. With a heavy sigh, Kaminari gave in, "Fine, I'll think about it. You talk to Momo and if the stars actually align here and she doesn't think we're up to no good and agrees, I'll pop the question. But only then."

Despite looking attentive, Mineta suddenly let out a colossal yawn. It was Denki's turn to scold the inattentive boy, "Dude, this was mostly your idea anyway, why are you tired of listening to it?"

"I'm not, I just feel real sleepy suddenly." came the answer, yawns scattered throughout the short reply.

"Now that you mention it, I'm feeling pretty beat too. At least we have this carpet is here", the blonde doing everything he can to finish his own words.

Unable to stand it any longer, Denki slumps to the ground. Mineta hesitates for a moment but is quick to follow, landing on top of Denkis sprawled out frame. It is only too late that Mineta realizes something is seriously wrong. He tries to look around for someone to help, only to see Momo walking towards them looking a little annoyed.

"Kaminari, Mineta, these are the girl's dormitories, you both should know that you're not allowed he-" Stopping mid-sentence and only a short distance away, she sees the pleading look in Mineta's tear-filled eyes, begging for her. "Mineta, what happened, is Denki okay? Are you alright?" She begins to approach faster.

Mineta tries to call out, but his eyes are the only things with any control left in his whole body. _Damn it, Momo, I know you're way smarter than that! Get away already! You're in danger too! Run! You..have to... r- _His eyes widen in a final attempt to get her to understand, before slowly closing, opening his way to the world of dreams.

Momo is about 10 feet away, stopped in her tracks by Mineta's hard glare. "Mineta, this is some twisted plan of yours... right?" Watching his eyes close even mid-glare caused her to immediately be on guard, realizing there is something dire to the situation. "This is bad, I have to warn everyone." The thought came too late, however.

One second wide awake and alert, the next drained absolutely. The wave of exhaustion that hit her is too sudden, too forced, and hit the padded floor with a quiet thump. Any anger for the trap is directed at herself, more than the person who made it. _Mineta, I'm sorry. I didn't know you were trying to warn me. I should have realized and saved you two. This is all my faul-_ With her eyelids like lead, and fatigue stripping her will away, she curls up on the ground. The last thing her eyes catch is Mineta on Denki's chest, both in an unwilling slumber, with her only visible sign of resistance is the half formed megaphone dropping from her body. Eyes closing, a wave of regret and shame fill her heart before darkness overtakes her.

Sandman makes a few turns before heading down a straight long duct. Moving along he peaks through another grating and notices the three kids he had caught walking the long corridor. Despite not all being in one place he still managed to easily trap the tall, raven haired girl with little trouble along with a familiar blonde and a small, purple boy.

Sandman is a bit hesitant but decides to check up on their dreams or their feelings at the very least. Due to the proximity of the two kids and his distance, it's hard to tell what is going on in the dreams, but he could sense their feelings. Oddly enough, despite the purple boy's... interesting plan he overheard, both have that same yearning sensation he felt with the girl named Jiro._ Well I guess everyone wants to feel loved_, whispered the idle thought on the fringe of his mind. Fighting the desire to soak in their feelings and lose himself again, he makes a snap decision. Noting how peaceful their faces seemed, he let them sleep on.

The raven haired girl on the other hand, held a interesting feeling, one Sandman didn't see often. Even amongst adults, a genuine sense of accomplishment was rare for him to find in the dreams he built. Pain, pleasure, even pride were common enough, but this was a rare treat. It was beyond him to even try to resist. Excitement began to gain its superiority over the cautionary voices warning him. Being far enough away to not get interference, he pressed himself into the private sanctity of Momo's inner world. With no warning, a cough escaped him, a taste like someone cleaning an ignored room for the first time in months fresh on his tongue. Curiosity spurring him on, he dove in without hesitation in to find its source. _This I have to see._

* * *

**A/N So going to be honest, I had honestly thought of throwing Momo's chapter into here immediately after the final paragraph, but I honestly think it's better off being a separate chapter. I wanted to originally have the first part be a flashback but I definitely prefer how this was written. As for the reviewers I should have spoken to at the start.**

**Night Owl Monkey : Thanks for enjoying it. Hoping to improve on Dialogue as I go on.**

**Dear Death Father Dearest: Thanks for the praise. Hopefully I can continue to improve myself (and these chapters).**

**Fencer29: Thanks for the honest critique. I will probably place the various dreams of students (leaving out a few due to laziness or personal taste) in bits and pieces throughout the story to be honest (Hoping to save Denki and Mineta's dreams for later, for instance) along with lacing Sandman's possible getaway and seeing if I can push the story on beyond the dreams without getting like you said too dragged out. I am not sure if I'll be able to pull it off or if I will want to, but I have a point I'd like to get to. Again thanks for the honesty, I deeply appreciate it.**


	5. Chapter 5: Workshop Wonders

**AN: Another day another chapter. Classes are winding down right now so it might be a hot minute before you see something. I have quite a bit to get dealt with before classes are finally done, but I'll be working on a chapter with the bits of time I get. Hoping to see a few more dreams before the meat and potatoes really starts up. Still doing this whole fiction thing by the seat of my pants, but this technically marks one of the greentexts that was tossed around that really stuck with me. Not sure if not being as wordy is good or bad in this case. Leave your thoughts and I'll try and get back with them as soon as I can! Hope you enjoy! Just to let you know, this chapter isn't too long, it's just to answer the questions my reviewers left, I somehow broke an extra thousand words. Hopefully I didn't over explain things.**

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Chapter Five: Workshop Wonders

The telltale pelting of water against glass and roofing reverberated throughout the city. Silhouettes darted along the sidewalk, dodging the puddles forming in the street. Sheltered from the outside din the small shop's cozy interior was a common comfort for Momo. Although the rain was loud, the sound of metal scraping against wood dominated the room. Before long the scraping ceased as a soft, accomplished sigh escaped from the wood file user. Momo circled quietly around the newly built chair, a smile gracing her gentle face, and admired its beauty. Lovingly hand-crafted, just like everything else in this small corner store. It wasn't much, but Momo loved this place with all her heart.

Holding the chair in her tender hands, she moved it from the sawdust covered room and brought it to the front. Pulling a price tag out of the pocket of the workers apron she wore, she attached it to the chair. After some minor adjustments, the final piece to a table set near the entrance to her store was given a new home. Her task complete, she figured a small break couldn't hurt. There was still some time left before she closed, but everyone deserves a chance to admire the things they create, right?

Usually the windows would catch the sunlight of the late afternoon and give a shimmering brilliance to the various varnishes she applied to her furniture. The entire day had been one large downpour, so she was given little business to distract her from the work she poured her heart into. With any bit of luck, maybe another customer or two will show up, she thought, but she wasn't holding her breath. Although her shop was usually decently busy on this sort of day, only around five people came in today, and the last one seemed more interested in holding conversation with her than actually buying something. Recalling the short man and his odd-shaped hair, the best defense she could give was at least he did eventually look at some of the furniture and even promised to be a regular. A hint of pessimism finished her thought, _although I hope he didn't just mean loitering!_

Although there was still time in the day, Momo decided now was a decent time to cut her losses. She made plenty of progress on other furniture, so she'd at least take that victory. The rain was likely to stop any other customers. With this in mind she flipped the sign on her window, quickly cleaned up the dust in the workshop, and walked calmly up the stairs to the second story home.

Momo opened the door and took the apron off before setting it on a softly curved, wood coat rack. With a stretch, Momo headed over to the kitchen and started brewing her favorite budget tea. The water warmed up as she began to admire the furniture around her humble abode. There was nothing as fancy up here as there was on the first floor, but she took special care to lovingly work her own style into her furniture. She toiled over each one to create something that would last. Maybe it wouldn't be much to others, but it was home and she was proud of it.

Suddenly a draft blew through her home. She quickly wrapped herself in the large blanket laying on the back of her only kitchen chair. With some time to spare before her tea finally was ready, she reached for the newspaper that was dropped off earlier today. The big headlines were about heroics, as usual. Apparently a large group of newly-minted pros took on a large gathering of villains, and not only stopped them with only minor injuries but also saved the lives of many people during an Olympic event. As she leaned back with the young heroes' faces fresh on her mind, Momo thought of her own quirk. It wasn't much compared to super strength, flight, invisibility, or many other far more combat capable quirks. The most she has used it for was to create new tools if she misplaced her own, or some silverware as a useful party trick if the hosts didn't have enough to go around. As far as she could tell, her quirk had plenty of use on a situation basis, but she would have to remember way too many things to pull it off in a situation a hero would find themselves in.

Even taking the high marks she always received in her school life, she knew that the path of heroics would be something that would require her to be training her quirk as soon it was discovered. Besides, Momo had a yearning for her achievements to be more tangible than just something written on paper. It's why she took up woodworking in the first place. Once more she returned to the picture gracing the front of the paper, the feeling of heartache softly scraping away her resolve. A small frown crossed her face, as she tried to justify herself to no one in particular, "It may not be anywhere as glamorous or as chivalrous as being a hero, but the life I live is something I've made with my own two hands. I didn't need to rely on others, even if," the frown grew slightly as she stared the small group of heroes in the back smiling among themselves, clearly more than just acquaintances, "I wouldn't mind how easy it would be to make friends."

A sigh alien to the exhilaration of a job well done escaped her lips. Taking a new look through her home, isolation crept through her very being. She still had some contact with old classmates and still spoke to her mother and father, but most socializing these days was just with customers as they looked through her wares. It didn't really bother her too much that she spoke few words to people outside of work, since the work took up most of her time anyway. This new realization, however, brought a loneliness that didn't feel that it would leave anytime soon. Taking a sip of the tea she didn't even remember pouring into a cup, a new sort of drive filled her. _Tomorrow_, she thought, _I'll make small talk with the first person to come into my store. And with any bit of luck we'll become great friends!_ Confidence returning to her, she washed her cup out, and placed it onto the drier before getting prepared for bed. _I can't wait to greet the first person in with a smile!_

* * *

The day was bright as sunlight shone into the store, varnished furniture reflecting wonderful shades and hues ranging from scarlet sunrises to autumn forest hues. Momo took some effort to improve her looks, mainly changing the usual ponytail she sported to leaving her long, straight hair out, along with a simple but elegant dress under her brown apron. It was almost 9 o'clock, and she knew the first customer would surely walk in any minute now, even going as far as to not even enter her workshop. She dusted off some of the older furniture in an attempt to seem busy when suddenly the bell on her door chimed. With a brand new friendship on the horizon, Momo immediately went to greet her soon to be new friend with a smile reserved for a very lucky few, "Good morning, welcome to-"

"I told you I'd be ba-", the high pitched male voice began before suddenly changing gears, "Well _hello_ gorgeous! You're even more beautiful than you were yesterday! Did you do something with your hair?" The short man with the purple hair stood with his eyes wide, the sheer grace and beauty of the store owner too much for even a man as experienced in the little respected art of ogling as himself.

Momo was just as shocked herself, only for a different reason. It was very unusual for her to have a sudden change in mood, but seeing as this was her first human interaction of the day, it wasn't completely unjustified for her to suddenly droop her shoulders in disappointment. The man noticed her change in mood and although he started questioning why she was acting that way, Momo ignored it momentarily. _Well, not the first person I would have wanted on my list of friends. I guess it could have been far worse. Who knows, maybe he'll actually buy something today, _came the voice of her resigned inner spirit. Readjusting herself, Momo knew she had little choice but to break her lonesome feelings by trying to make the most of the situation, even if it was a tiny loiterer! With a more positive new mindset, she gave it her best shot to try and salvage this new turn of events.

* * *

**AND that's that so far! When I first read the greentext someone made for Momo, it kind of hit me in a soft spot. Just this relatively simple life of creating beautiful things without using her powers in a world where the quirks were found in (if I remember the stat correctly offhand ) 85% of the population. No grand battles with your life on the line, just hard work and sweat, even the furniture in her house. I felt like the one thing she would miss from all of it though, was the friends she made that liked her for who she was. I figured the only reason Mineta would be the main face from the real world she sees is merely because he was the last person she focused on before being thrown into her dreams from not realizing his attempt at warning her. Hopefully I did explain all of this well enough in the story.**

**I wish I could reply to reviews in public without making it look like I'm inflating my own reviews as well and not have to have a new chapter written every time, since I like answering questions and addressing people, but I guess it allows me to gather my thoughts a bit more before settling on an answer. So here goes the answers to the reviewers. Thanks again ahead of time for reading this, and as usual send those thoughts!**

**To address both Fencer29 and Lightgiver with Fencer first: For Sandman, it depends on a few things. If he were to fully concentrate on the idea of putting a single person out cold as soon as he can, right then and there, it would take about 3-10 seconds of hardcore concentration, with how tired they already are having some effect on it. A sleeping person could get pushed into a much deeper sleep with no effort beyond what he wants to have them dream (if he does) while a well rested individual hopped on caffeine could take as long as 30 seconds if they were focusing on staying awake and knew he was actively trying to knock them out. **

**The drawback to going the hard and heavy route is if he forced it too harshly, they would immediately realize something was wrong and fight the sleep. He would be a bit too busy making sure they were out like a light to actually build up a proper dream for them, so he doesn't have as much as say and instead the dream may take on their own hopes, dreams, regrets aspirations, whims, fears, surface thoughts, or any number or combination of the above. In the case of da boyz, they were around him long enough (technically a bit after Jiro and a couple of others were put out) for him to get both of them without causing too much suspicion between the two of them until it was too late. Once he realized another saw what was going on, he didn't have much choice but to start slowly working away at his new target, meaning he didn't have much say in the dreams they were having (I'll get those chapters set up later, I have something special planned for that lovable duo.) Momo on the other hand, didn't realize what was up until she was too far gone, so by the time she tried to warn the other students or a pro, she was already about to faint. A solid portion of 1-A was starting to turn in (or turned in) or using up the last bit of energy relaxing on the couches, chairs and rug scattered around the common area. The common area students were luckily already tired from a long day and close in proximity, so for Sandman it was more slowly exhausting them. ****He is far better at infiltrating an area, working his influence on those found inside than openly combating them. He can use his quirk in that sort of scenario, but his issue becomes what his opponent can do in that decent window of time. He's trained in getting into a place because of his experience, but he wasn't constantly improving his mind, body, and spirit like the kids in the hero schools. He might get a lucky punch on someone who isn't aware, but he's not going to win against someone who LIVES capturing others and trained for combat.**

**To better address you, Lightgiver, I'll start from who he is. He is simply a mercenary with some delusions about his abilities. He likens himself to an artist because of his ability to manipulate dreams however he desires and he has been in the business of doing so for some time. He definitely doesn't consider himself a villain, though he has and does work for criminal groups as additional manpower. He also sells his services to the rich for their own personal playgrounds, the desperate who want/hope for a life away from their death, or the criminal who want to use him for one thing or another, (knocking out security guards without bloodshed, plausible deniability if attacking another crime ring without casualties on your own side, general espionage, etc). He doesn't always do his stuff for exclusively evil purposes, for instance he doesn't like working with people who go out of their way to call themselves villains, because there is really not much trust there. He prefers just using his quirk to put people under (and occasionally ride their emotional highs as an addiction of his own) It took a sizable amount of cash for the League to convince him to partner up, and both groups are keeping each other at arms length. He only took the job after he got his way of not killing the kids outright, partially because of his personal ethics and partially because being labeled a child killer wouldn't look good for his future business.**

**As for how his quirk works in particular. I would liken his ability to not so much magically knocking people out (his other effects are much more akin to that, to be honest), but draining the energy that keeps people awake. Depending on the factors I threw up earlier, he can drain it at his own leisure. The energy is merely sapped from them, not absorbed by Sandman. It took years before he could do far more. The people who captured him early on found out he could actually induce dreaming with enough time, not just knock them out, and he was used as a party favor for the wealthy who owned him. Through continuous use of the quirk and torture, eventually his quirk included being able to manipulate the dreams themselves, picking up on the sensations and feelings they would impose, and not having to have physical contact on the people he would put under, eventually leading to his escape. To stave off the pain he was often subjected to, he would feed off those joyful emotions, and once that was discovered by his captors, eventually pushed enough (with the help of quirk enhancing drugs) to even affect others sleeping around the main subject. He lives for finding new feelings to compensate for a life not fully lived early on, which probably lead to his soft spot for kids, especially the terminally ill. Technically the dreams themselves should be harmless, but his quirk is powerful enough from usage to actually cause heavy mental harm if the events experienced are shocking enough for them, among other things.**

**Quick tiny update: Really if you want is quirk to lean more on the supernatural than on the physical, more power to you. I just had to come up with something that sounded halfway believable for a guy that has been around a while, especially since he isn't like the newest kids who have much more powerful quirks.**

And even though I hate over explaining things, I still manage to drop about a thousand words to cover as much as I could. Hopefully I didn't ruin the mystery of what's exactly happening. Maybe I should have just made his life a separate chapter. Ah well. Thanks again for sitting down to read all this, enjoy your weekend everyone.


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